Monday, January 14, 2019
I am so sorry to hear about Andy. I just want you to know that he has had a huge impact on many many people, and a deep and personal one on me. Andy and I met back in 1982 in Toronto at Dillon Consulting. I can still recall how they built this little cubby hole of an office just outside my door, for a new structural engineer transferring over from Windsor. We hit it off immediately, sharing many common interests. In my life, as I am sure it is for most people, I have had the great fortune of having many close friends. But in each phase: grade school, high school, college, working years : there was always one friend with whom I shared a special bond. Andy was that person for most of the 80's and early 90's until we moved away. One of the things that brought us close was the golf course. Over the years we played upwards of a hundred rounds together, with , I'm guessing, 75% of them just the two of us. We would often head out at 6:00 am, first group out, finish the round in under three hours, and be showered and into work by 10 am. It got so if we were out of the office at the same time, it was assummed we were golfing, even if that wasn't the case (it generally was though). This was never a problem, as we always more than made up for the time, and in fact on more than one occasion we were asked by the President to invite one of the other guys in the office. The golfing thing continued even after I moved to Fredericton in 1993, when Andy and I would golf the Thursday before the spring and fall Dillon partners meetings, then head off to Avenue Bistro for a few dozen chicken wings. The other Dillon partners would always ask me how Andy was doing, what he was up to, even though many of them lived in the same city. That always made me feel good others recognized the bond we had. Andy watched both of my kids grow up, and continued to ask about them after we moved. We felt as comfortable together not having seen each other for six months, as we did sitting across the hall from one another at work. We never lost that sense of ease. I can still hear his voice in my head " Heeyyy Mitch, how ya doing". In almost thirty years of friendship, I never once heard Andy get angry, not even on the golf course. He was universally loved by everyone who met him, and had a genuine interest in knowing how each and every one of them was doing. At lunch on Thursday some of the old Dillon guys from the 80's met for lunch. We talked about Andy, told a few stories that had special meaning to each of us, had a few laughs and even hoisted a beer in his honor. Then I went back to the office, and sat there and cried. Had to go home as I couldn't work through the tears. I last saw Andy just before Christmas when we went to the Chicken Deli for wings. Whenever we met, I always left feeling pretty good about myself, he had that way about him. Maybe he knew then, maybe not, he likely wouldn't have told me if he did. But I didn't get to say good bye. Andy, made me a better person, I loved him like a brother, and I will miss him.
